


serve warm

by alison



Category: Food Network RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Food, Food Sex, M/M, Multi, Sexual Content, but there's touching and there's cake, i guess, it's all very erotic, oh golly, sort of, there's no like penetrative sex though, they're very tender and gentle, um
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 16:35:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2395298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alison/pseuds/alison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Harry meets Ina when he's perusing the fresh herbs at the market near his new holiday home in East Hampton. They both reach for the rosemary at the same time, bumping hands and chuckling heartily at the mishap. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>harry befriends ina, and then jeffrey. he keeps getting erections around them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	serve warm

**Author's Note:**

> i have no excuses, i really don't.

Harry meets Ina when he's perusing the fresh herbs at the market near his new holiday home in East Hampton. They both reach for the rosemary at the same time, bumping hands and chuckling heartily at the mishap. They go their separate ways, but run into each other again by the vanilla. When Harry grabs several vanilla beans, Ina lifts an eyebrow, impressed.

“That's a lot of vanilla beans,” she says, almost like a test.

Harry just smiles, dropping them into his basket, then running a hand through his hair. “I like to make my own vanilla extract. The store-bought stuff never tastes quite right.”

When a smile spreads over Ina's face, Harry knows he's passed the test.

“I'm having a little gathering at my home tomorrow night. You should stop by,” she offers, as if good taste in vanilla is all she needs in a new friend.

Harry smiles. He hasn't made many friends in the area yet and this woman is positively delightful. “Only if you'll let me bring something.”

She laughs, agreeing to his terms, and writes her address down on a little piece of paper. “Bring something sweet,” she says with one last warm smile before she heads toward the checkout.

Harry watches as she greets the cashier like an old friend and smiles to himself, knowing exactly what he'll bring. He turns back toward the fruit, running the recipe through his head.

-

“Harry, lovely to see you,” Ina greets, opening the door the next evening. “Mmm, that smells delicious. What did you bring?”

“Clafouti,” Harry responds, giving her an air kiss for each cheek. “The market had some beautiful cherries, so I couldn't resist. It's a recipe I've been tinkering with for a while. I hope you like it.”

Ina takes the ceramic dish from Harry's hands, leading him into the kitchen. “I'm sure it will be wonderful, Harry, thank you.”

Harry smiles, looking around. The house is beautiful; it seems every surface has fresh flowers, making the space smell fresh and fragrant. The floor to ceiling windows bring in so much light, even as the sun is approaching the horizon.

“Your home is beautiful,” he says, turning back to where Ina is grating fresh parmesan over what looks like orzo with asparagus.

“Oh, where are my manners?” Ina says, still smiling. “I'll have Jeffrey give you a tour while I finish up here.”

As if hearing his name, a man walks into the room then, a sweet smile on his face. He's just a couple inches taller than Ina, with a mop of curly grey hair.

“Oh, hello! You must be Ina's new friend.”

Harry grins brightly, stepping forward to shake the man's hand. “Harry Styles,” he confirms. “It's very kind of you to invite me into your home.”

Jeffrey shakes his hand, but waves him off at that. “No trouble at all, son, we love having company.”

“Jeffrey, would you be a dear and give Harry a quick tour before the others arrive?” Ina asks, turning to pull a large covered ceramic dish out of the oven.

Jeffrey happily pulls Harry out of the room, leading him through the house. Every room is beautiful, tastefully decorated and clean. Harry smiles as Jeffrey tells stories of artwork and lighting, the bathroom they recently remodeled. When he gets to a closed door, he glances around sneakily, leaning in to whisper, a smile in his eyes.

“Ina will kill me if she finds out I've shown you this, but the tour's not complete without it.”

Harry grins excitedly, promising not to tell, following Jeffrey into what appears to be the master bedroom. As Jeffrey closes the door behind them, Harry takes it in. It's not nearly as neat as the rest of the house, but it's definitely not messy either. It just looks lived in.

It smells different, too, comforting and warm. It makes Harry's stomach flip a bit, oddly.

“Ina had a fit when I picked that out,” Jeffrey says, and when Harry turns toward him, he's looking above the head of the bed. Harry follows his gaze, seeing a bright abstract painting there.

It's a nude, a woman's naked body evident even through the wild brush strokes.

“She wouldn't let me hang it anywhere but the bedroom,” he explains, barely controlling his giggles.

Between the brazen painting and that warm, comforting scent of the room, Harry feels a twisting sensation low in his abdomen, thinks he's starting to swell in his pants. He tries to shake the feeling, not wanting to embarrass himself in front of his host, but Jeffrey steps closer and he smells like nutmeg and bourbon. Harry takes a deep breath.

“You're a very handsome young man, Harry,” he says, much softer now. “I don't need to worry about you with my wife, do I?”

If it's meant to be a joke, Jeffrey's tone doesn't give it away.

“No, sir,” Harry says quickly. “Of course not, I wouldn't-”

“Shh,” Jeffrey shushes softly, reaching out to touch Harry's arm, just above his elbow. “Don't worry, I'm just asking.”

Harry must look more worried than he thought, which is mostly due to his inexplicable growing erection. Jeffrey is still gently stroking his arm, though, and that's not helping his situation.

“I didn't mean to frighten you. You're all flushed.” Jeffrey peers at him, concerned, and then, to Harry's horror, his gaze trails down Harry's body, pausing at his crotch. He stares for a second before, looking back up to Harry's face, smiling kindly. “I think you need a drink,” he says, thankfully not acknowledging Harry's bulge.

And, with that, Jeffrey leads him out of the bedroom, walking slowly and taking the long way back toward the kitchen, where Harry can hear more voices. The walk and the bright smell of fresh flowers helps Harry relax enough that he doesn't feel like he's burning up when he gets back to the kitchen and Ina introduces him to the other guests.

After two introductions, Jeffrey presses a glass of red wine into his hand and Harry takes a grateful sip.

-

“I can taste the vanilla,” Ina says with a smile as she swallows down a bite of Harry's clafouti after holding it on her tongue for a long moment. “And is that bourbon?”

Harry chuckles, feeling loose from the incredible wine he's been drinking all night. “Just a splash,” he confirms, nodding.

The other guests praise the dessert, which Ina has served with crème fraiche, but he barely hears them. All he cares about is that Ina seems delighted by it and Jeffrey has practically already cleared his plate.

When Jeffrey finishes and rounds the table to top off Harry's glass, Harry winces. “Not sure I should drink any more. I do have to drive home.”

“The night is young,” Jeffrey insists, emptying the last of the bottle into Harry's glass. “Besides, we have three guest bedrooms. Take your pick!”

Harry laughs, but it fails when he feels a light touch on the back of his neck, tickling his skin before Jeffrey turns away. He coughs to himself and takes another sip of wine, shaking the feeling off.

The other guests leave soon after that and Harry feels guilty staying, but he knows he shouldn't drive. Even though it's only ten minutes, he feels too buzzed to risk it. He could always call a cab, but both Gartens seem more than happy to have him stay.

As Ina packages up the leftovers, Jeffrey shows Harry to a guest bedroom, pointing out the extra toiletries in the adjoining bathroom. Harry tries very hard not to think about the fact that it's right next to the master bedroom, tries not to think of that painting and that smell, tries not shiver when Jeffrey touches him, but his wine-addled brain seems to have forgotten everything else.

“Why don't you get into bed and I'll bring you some water,” Jeffrey suggests, so sweetly that it makes Harry's chest ache.

As he leaves the room, Harry groans to himself because he's done it again, his trousers tenting. Jeffrey's going to think he's some sort of freak at this rate. He undresses quickly, sliding under the covers and sighing happily at how soft the sheets are. He's always invested in good linens himself, just another thing he has in common with Ina.

When Jeffrey comes back with a glass of water, Ina's with him, smiling in the doorway. Harry takes the water gratefully, forcing himself to take a long sip, knowing he'll appreciate it in the morning.

“If you need anything at all, let us know,” Ina says. “And help yourself to whatever you'd like, alright?”

Harry nods and thanks her, bidding them a good night as they leave, shutting out the light and closing the door behind them.

Harry can't sleep yet, though, his erection still going strong for some unknown reason. He snuggles down between the sheets, trying to forget all about it. Just when he thinks he's finally going to fall asleep, he hears something in the next room that makes his eyes snap open wide.

A moan. He hears Ina's voice moaning and his cock stiffens again almost instantly, his ears perking up to hear more.

And he does hear more, hears a soft, low grunt from Jeffrey and the gentle movement of their bed, hears murmured voices, the words too muffled to make out. He hears it all and Harry desperately wants to block it out, but his hand moves to his cock against his will, rubbing himself through his briefs.

He sees a flash of the painting, imagines the two of them rocking together on the bed, and he pulls his cock out, stroking quickly to the pace of the squeaking mattress, the soft scrape of wood on wood. He blames the wine, feeling reckless as he wanks himself right there in the guest bed.

He comes when he hears Ina's muffled cry, using a tissue to catch his spunk so as not to dirty the linens.

-

Harry starts visiting more after that, stopping by in the morning with a newspaper and coffees and freshly baked pastry or in the afternoon to help Ina collect herbs from her garden. He's invited to dinner at least twice a week and he usually arrives with his favorite wine and a dish he's prepared. Lately, though, he's started coming earlier, helping Ina prepare the entire meal.

He and Ina have so much in common and he adores her company. He feels so relaxed with her, so at ease. He can't get enough.

And he feels that way with Jeffrey, too, loves when the older man joins them in the kitchen, slowly sipping whiskey as he watches them work.

One night, a couple of weeks after meeting them, Harry stays over again after a long night of laughing over red wine and gourmet cheeses. He doesn't mean to impose, but they firmly insist that he stay, Ina saying it's nice to have someone else to cook breakfast for.

Harry doesn't hear anything from the next room this time and, after an hour of being unable to sleep, he feels his stomach grumble. They'd eaten hours ago, so Harry thinks he just needs a little snack before he falls asleep.

As quietly as possible, he sneaks downstairs to see what he can find, but when he rounds the corner into the kitchen, he sees Jeffrey standing at the counter, a fork in his mouth. When he spots Harry, his eyes light up, waving him closer.

“What are you doing awake, Harry?” He's eating leftover lemon crumb cake, the scent strong enough that Harry knows he's reheated it.

“Couldn't sleep,” Harry answers softly, smiling. “Thought a midnight snack might help.”

Jeffrey smiles, leaning closer. “Well, don't tell Ina you caught me eating sweets so late,” he says conspiratorially. “But I'm happy to share. Here, have a bite.” He stabs a bit of the moist cake onto his fork and holds it up, cupping his other hand under it.

Harry feels that twisting stomach feeling again as he leans forward, parting his lips to let Jeffrey feed him the bite. It almost tastes even better now than it did after dinner, the sweetness lingering on his tongue as he swallows. He stupidly makes eye contact with Jeffrey as he licks his lips, feeling his cock swell already.

“Incredible,” he says quietly, desperate for another taste.

Jeffrey just smiles and feeds him another bite and Harry almost moans around the fork, his skin starting to heat up.

“Love that accent,” Jeffrey compliments, his smile not very bright now, more private and thoughtful. “You're such a lovely young man, aren't you?”

Harry actually whimpers a little at that, can't keep it in, and that's when Jeffrey's gaze flicks down, catching him with an erection again. This time, he steps closer, bringing a hand up to graze Harry's wrist.

“You're really, very lovely, Harry. My wife thinks so as well.”

Harry doesn't respond aside from the flush of his cheeks before Jeffrey is lifting another forkful of cake to his lips. Harry opens his mouth, taking it in. The buttermilk adds so much to the recipe, he thinks as he chews slowly, amazed at how it almost melts on his tongue.

Before he's even swallowed, Jeffrey's hand moves away from his wrist, down to lightly cup the bulge in Harry's trousers. He shudders out a breath, feeling guilty and aroused as the man starts rubbing him, so gently that it doesn't feel dirty at all, just warm and comforting. Just like the scent of their bedroom, just like _them_.

“Ina,” Harry whispers, not wanting to betray his new friend. As much as he wants this, he doesn't want to lose her.

“I told you, Harry, she thinks you're lovely, too,” Jeffrey says, his hand still caressing Harry's cock through his trousers.

Harry drops his head, feeling himself throb with need. He doesn't move, letting Jeffrey feed him more cake, never moving his hand away. Harry doesn't know what this is leading to, but he can't question it because it's so good, just this.

And then he hears Ina's voice behind him.

“Jeffrey, are you into the cake?” She asks, playfully scolding him.

Harry freezes, eyes going wide as Ina enters the room, but Jeffrey doesn't stop touching, trailing his fingers over the line of Harry's cock. Harry should be moving away, Jeffrey should definitely be moving away, but neither of them do, even as Ina enters Harry's view.

“Sorry, darling, you know I can't resist sweets,” he says, smiling at her.

Harry's gaze snaps up to her face, his eyes widened in panic as she takes in the scene in front of her.

“I see that,” she says over a chuckle, the skin by her eyes wrinkling as she smiles. “Don't look so scared, Harry. Unless- do you not want this?”

Harry doesn't even know what _this_ is, but he knows he wants it. “I do, but I- I shouldn't- I feel bad,” he stutters out, trying not to groan when Jeffrey curls his fingers, gently gripping him through the material of his trousers.

“Don't feel bad,” Ina says, frowning sympathetically. “Oh, you look so worried, love.”

Harry doesn't know what's happening, doesn't understand why Ina isn't angry, but he doesn't want to be the one to point out that she probably should be, so he just ducks his head, looking down at Jeffrey's hand touching him.

He hears movement and then he sees Ina's hand settling over Jeffrey's, the two of them touching him together. He practically sobs out a whimper at that, seeing them work together to rub him through his trousers.

“Don't be scared,” Ina says kindly. “We don't bite or anything.”

Harry lifts his head, his lips parted over a soft moan as he looks at Ina, feeling both of their hands touching him so perfectly, so lovingly. She smiles, then lifts her other hand to tilt his head toward Jeffrey and Harry is fed another piece of cake, Ina's fingers still caressing his jaw.

It's everything he could have wanted, the two of them so close, the bright, fresh taste of Ina's cooking on his tongue and the warmth of their hands cradling his cock.

Ina brushes her fingers through his hair, whispering, “it's okay, love, it's okay,” and Jeffrey keeps tipping cake into his mouth carefully, and Harry comes just like that, from the gentle pressure of their hands.

They whisper to him as a wet spot grows on his crotch, his cock pulsing under the fabric, telling him how glad they are that he's here, how much they enjoy having him stay with them. It's too much, too kind, and Harry shivers as he finishes shooting, their hands stilling together over his cock, his trousers soaked beneath the touch.

“Why don't you sleep with us tonight?” Jeffrey suggests and it just sounds inviting and nice, not like they're trying to get him into bed.

Harry turns to Ina, a question in his eyes, and she smiles warmly, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. She smells like lavender and vanilla, almost like cake.

“I'd love that, Harry,” she says sincerely.

When Harry crawls into their bed, he very nearly gets hard again, lying down beneath that painting and breathing in the scent of their sheets. They hold him and touch him until he falls asleep, more comfortable than he's ever been.

-

He comes by even more after that, spends more nights in their bed, feeling taken care of and loved between the 1,000 thread count sheets. They cook together, eat together, laugh together. Harry tries to make them feel as good as they make him feel, but he's not sure that's possible. He does what he can, though, and they seem to enjoy it anyway.

He's very glad he went to the market that day, glad Ina's was the hand that bumped into his. He's glad she let him into her life, hers and Jeffrey's, because Harry's never been happier.


End file.
